


The Mad and the Marvelous

by wynnesome



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Ultimates
Genre: Banter, Bitchy Ults Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Brain Weasels, Cock Warming, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daytime Soaps, Fluff and Smut, Introspection, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Naked Cuddling, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Post-Coital Cuddling, Sex, Smut, Television Watching, Ults Tony's Silk Robes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22266571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnesome/pseuds/wynnesome
Summary: Tony introduces Steve to a new sex-thing. Steve doesn’t get it.He’s supposed to sit there with Tony’s mouth on his cock andnotmove, andnotget blown, andnotcome?What the hell is the point?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 22
Kudos: 165
Collections: You Gave Me A Stocking 2019





	The Mad and the Marvelous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts).



> This fic is a stocking-stuffer fill for [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar), who I have seen, over the past few weeks, repeatedly expressing a hankering for cockwarming fic. The most recent time, I found myself really wishing I could help by writing her some, and then the opening line of this fic appeared in my head, and I said, "Oh, that's Ults Steve," and then I was writing bitchy Ults cockwarming.
> 
> The Ultimates are always kind of skewed in my mind -- they're just "off." These Guys Are Not Quite Right. That's their appeal and charm, for me. This fic is actually pretty fluffy, but also has some slightly off-kilter turns. Kiyaar, I sincerely hope that despite or because of all that, it helps feed the craving.
> 
>  **CONTENT NOTES:**  
>  ***Mentions of Cancer:** Several brief mentions of Ults Tony's canonical brain tumor and non-graphic mentions of side-effects of cancer treatment. It's a canonical facet of the character, but not at all a major focus of the fic.  
>  ***Head Injury:** Steve's mind conjures up an imaginary picture of Tony with a severe head injury, and his moment of death due to the injury. The mention/description is very brief, mildly graphic, and takes place only inside Steve's imagination.
> 
>  **CANON NOTES:**  
>  This fic has very little to do with any Ults canon.  
> Tony's a peacock. Steve's a grumpy bird.  
> There's sex and soap operas.  
> It's a PWP, ok?
> 
> All right, so except for the sex, it’s Ults canon. :D

"Goddammit, Tony, what the fuck is this supposed to be all about?"

Tony let Steve's mostly-soft cock fall from his spit-slicked lips, licking at them to break a trailing string of saliva, and looked up.

He'd swanned in just as Steve's favorite program was starting, martini in hand, swigged down the last of the drink and set the glass aside. Given a shimmy of his shoulders that swished his lavender silk robe provocatively to the floor, leaving him even more provocatively bare to the waist. Unceremoniously whipped Steve's belt off and his pants down just before Steve had himself planted in his spot on the couch. Then without a word, dropped to his knees, snuffled into Steve's groin, inhaled his dick, and... done absolutely nothing else.

Tony was the cocksucking champion of Steve's world, and this was not the way he'd earned the title.

Steve had tried thrusting into his mouth exactly once, only to have Tony tap his thigh, and, with a half-shake of his head, but without pulling off, murmur around his dick, " _Nhh-unnhh_." The rumble of it had almost started to get Steve going, but then Tony had subsided back into silence, and Steve was just supposed to sit there, and... nada, nothing.

(...it was warm and wet, but outside of the inherent sex-appeal of it being _Tony_ , kind of like sticking his hand in a bowl of tepid water -- inoffensive but unremarkable, and not particularly arousing...)

Steve had let things go on like that all the way till just now, when the station had cut to commercial, and he'd had enough of having _nothing like enough_ to grumble about it.

"It's called 'cockwarming,' _darling_ \--" Tony's erstwhile endearment was sharper-edged than usual. "--and you're _supposed_ to be sitting there and getting comfortable and letting me spoil you, while you watch the rest of your show."

Steve huffed. "I enjoy my soaps just fine without my pants around my ankles and your slobber all over my dick. It's distracting."

That earned him an ostentatious pout. "So you _don't_ like my hot, wicked mouth wrapped around your hot, hulking manhood? That's not what you said last night. _'Fuck, Tony, more, yeah, suck me, baby, so good,’_ that doesn't ring a bell? Or were you faking it? Because the half-gallon of--" Tony rose to a knee-stand and jabbed him, hard, striking unerringly with one finger for the unpadded line of sternum right between his pecs. "--steaming super-soldier smoothie you shot down my throat said I was ringing yours fit to crack it like the one in Philadelphia!"

"Rude, Tony." Scowling, Steve swatted the offending hand away and let his palm fall heavily onto Tony's shoulder, applying a little force. "Have some respect. The Liberty Bell is a national monument."

Steve knew Tony had only made the jibe to get a rise out of him, but some things were a matter of principle.

"Yes, and so are you, old man. Your point being?"

Truth be told, Steve had firmed up more from the past twelve seconds of Tony's unabashed sex talk and their banter than from the previous twelve minutes of Tony drooling on his balls without actually bothering to blow him. Just hearing it, including Tony's uncannily accurate reproduction of his own enthusiastic, uh, encouragements, had his face feeling hotter and redder than the non-action had done for his dick.

"My point being that last night involved moving, and _sucking_ , not being told to sit still and not do anything about it while you bore my dick to death."

Hurt flashed across Tony's expressive eyes, dimming their sparkle, and, dammit, that wasn't what Steve was going for, not at all.

"Never mind, Steve, sorry." He scrubbed a forearm across the lower part of his face, wiping away the remaining spit-shine. "I just wanted to try something new and nice for you. Thought it might be relaxing. You work hard, you play hard--"

"I like to _come_ hard," Steve bitched.

Tony drew in a quick breath, and threw up his hands. "Ok, I read you, Cap. Orders received. Mission abort."

He shifted his weight like he was about to stand, and Steve pushed at his shoulder again. "No, no. Not dismissed. Leave denied. You're gonna deliver." He stomped out of his boots, then pushed his socks and his cargos and briefs the rest of the way off, removing the obstruction. "You get back down there and show me what the big deal is -- but if you make me miss who's responsible for switching out Kyla's and Twyla's babies, I'm gonna--"

Tony's eyes narrowed, apprising. Good. Steve couldn't stomach that kicked-puppy cower. Even -- especially -- when it was his own steel-toed boot that blundered into Tony's emotional underbelly. Tony was meant to be full of bite and bark and bravado, sly lip curled back to show teeth, and quick with a pointed snarl and snap.

Here was his Tony the way he liked him, composure recovered, batting his miles-long, bootblacked lashes. Twice. Slowly. And spinning his words out like taffy, sticky and full of sugar.

"You'll what, soldier? Will it be dire? Will I face a reckoning? Retribution? Reprisal, even?"

But he was folding back down again, and Steve let his shoulder go to ruffle his right hand through Tony's fine, silky hair. It was dark and lustrous (ought to be, for Tony's assiduous regimen of care products), but still, the rounds of treatments had left it thinner than it had once been.

"Whatever, Stark, just don't make me deal it out, and you'll never have to know. Now shut up and open wide, commercial's over."

He shifted his attention -- most of it -- back to the television, but left his hand resting on Tony's head.

Warm breath and a point of wet tickled lightly at his inner thigh. Steve scooched his hips, squirming down a little lower into the couch and letting his legs fall open wider as Tony's tonguetip traced its way up.

 _"...that's_ not _my baby! What kind of a mother do you think I am? You think I'm stupid? You think I can't tell?"_

Soft lips nuzzled at his balls, crinkling his wiry hair against his skin.

 _"...put an end to this madness right now, Kyla, before I have you declared an_ unfit _mother and you'll have no baby at all!"_

A hot mouth slipped over the tip of his cockhead where it peeked out of its foreskin, and then enveloped the rest. The head and still-pliable shaft made an easy portion for Tony, who could take him to the root at full mast, purple-red, thick, hard, and thrumming. Thinking it made him itch to get there, and he twitched and filled out a little more, but his imagination alone wasn't enough, not when contradicted by the very immediate lack of physical stimulation.

_"You men are all alike! No one and nothing matters but your despicable power games!_

The shrill voice of grievously wronged Kyla, or was it Twyla, on the screen, faded into the background as he concentrated more on staying still and centering his focus on the way Tony was making him feel. Tony was rarely wrong, at least when it came to sex, so if he thought Steve should get some enjoyment from this, then there was probably something to it that he'd missed the first time around.

He snuck a glance downward. Kneeling with ass atop heels, Tony was a graceful bare curve from neck to waistband of the low-riding black satin sleep pants that hung from his hipbones. One hand rested lightly just above each of Steve's kneecaps, and with his elbows pointing down and head bent to Steve's groin, he looked like a sleek, powerful bird in still-frame, poised to spring into flight.

Steve's eyes flicked between Tony and the melodrama on the tv screen. He felt a little guilty; Tony had told him to watch his show. But if this was supposed to be for his benefit, for his _pleasure_ , then maybe it wasn't so wrong of him if he found it more riveting to watch Tony, instead.

Steve knew Tony's body, of course he did; in detail, with the emphasis on "intimate." But then again, when they were naked together -- maybe it should have been embarrassing, how often their sex was too primal and urgent to bother with undressing fully, but he couldn't bring himself to feel any shame -- but even when every stitch was stripped off, they didn't spend a lot of time stopping to look. Not with their eyes, so much, unless you wanted to count "seeing" with their hands, lips, tongues, learning shapes like blind men. And so, that was his excuse for how easy it could be to forget how fit Tony was, damned disease notwithstanding; how broad, and how tight and trim, in all the rightful places. Lean and efficient, understated and often underestimated, especially outlined against Steve's emphatic bulk.

Tony's shoulders rose and fell slightly with each in-and-exhale through his nose, sending alternating cool patches and damp, warm puffs against Steve's pubic bone. Those shoulders, he studied them, wide and sloping with muscle, and dipping down into elegant arches of collarbone, sights that no one saw beneath the extravagant power suits, armored and otherwise.

No, they did not. Not _these_ shoulders, not _this_ Tony. The sex tapes and scandals had been Tony of the past. Tony was all for Steve now, he had promised him, and Steve wouldn't be here if he didn't believe it.

__

Just for Steve, the cavern of Tony's mouth making a private bathing pool for his cock, overflowing with waves that flowed down to soak his balls, and further to lap around his rim.

__

_(Tony'd flown them to Japan together, once, to steep in the mineral-tinctured_ onsen _. They'd stayed in the water for hours, letting hands wander and mouths meet in kisses that rose from sweet to lascivious, till their blood steamed and boiled._

__

_Even Tony hadn't been far enough lost to iniquity to suggest they break the prohibition against polluting the natural hot springs with coarse bodily fluids. But they'd relocated thick futon pads from the bed, and once their carnal desires overran and nothing less would sate their lusts, all they'd had to do was roll themselves out to bathside and chase the heated waters deep into every crevice of their bodies, till the pressure soared and the dams broke and they flooded one another from their own unleashed reservoirs.)_

__

At the base of Steve's spine, tension was beginning to coil, and he pulsed and uncurled in Tony's mouth. Tony swallowed around him, resettling his jaw, humming quietly where Steve's cockhead now rested against the back of his throat.

__

Steve's skin prickled with sweat and his muscles had bunched tight; he loosened his fingers from their tangle in Tony's hair, and forced himself to hold back the unruly thrusts that gathered, ready to break out past the barrier of his hips.

__

He dragged his attention back to the television. He needed the distraction in the other direction, now. On the screen, Dyllan was conducting a nefarious business dealing, while Phoenicia was skulking around a disreputable warehouse and about to be taken captive. A hand clapped over her mouth, stifling her shriek, and the scene cut to another commercial.

__

The plots were preposterous and predictable, and helped Steve ratchet himself down a notch. Tension seeped out of him on a long, released breath that pressed his shoulder blades back against the top line of the couch. The motion passed down through his body and nudged his erection a little forward through the ring of Tony's lips, which, now that he was hard, no longer reached quite to his base.

__

He could push down Tony's throat; he knew Tony could take him, slide himself right down into that tight, closed space...

__

Tony swallowed again, a rippling stroke and squeeze around the crown of Steve’s cock. Steve moaned, and Tony did it again, his throat clicking through a long, constricting pull. Spit was streaming out the corners of his mouth more profusely than before, but he didn't look up or back off.

__

Steve panted and swallowed back his own rising arousal, tasting it in the air. He wrestled down his urges; he could hold it, hold back, till... the end of the episode, the turn of the hour. Or whenever Tony said; really, this wasn't his show, at all, anymore. It was Tony's show, now, and Tony would tell him when they were done.

__

He ducked to the left to swipe his forehead against the sleeve on his free arm, then, one-handed, reached behind himself and stripped the perspiration-patched t-shirt over his head. He lifted his hand from Tony's hair for just long enough to free it from the sodden cloth, which he tossed to the carpet.

__

When the air hit his chest, he felt wetter than before. A cold-sweat shiver skated through him, beading up his skin to gooseflesh, and Tony broke silence again with another muffled groan. That, too, danced along Steve's nerves, leaving him buzzing.

__

It seemed like the room had hit a hundred percent humidity. Everything felt damp: the sweat trickling down his back, his spit-soaked cock and balls and the fabric beneath him, even the strands of Tony's hair under his hand.

__

Tony's hands hadn't changed position; they were still outstretched atop Steve's knees, outwardly motionless. But every few breaths, involuntary muscle contractions would have a fingertip or two pressing a little harder, or sliding a fraction of an inch up or down Steve's leg.

__

He tracked it for a while, waiting for each microscopic movement, the way they hit off and on with his heartbeats, the way his cock would sometimes pulse in response, and Tony would stutter through another convulsive swallow. He felt close with Tony, felt them silently sharing something. They were connected, but the points were too far between, and too abstract, and he craved more contact. He held his breath and let his left hand settle over Tony's right, heel laying over Tony's knuckles, and fingers fanned out toward his wrist. He felt the moment Tony reassumed conscious control of that hand, felt the tension even out across the back of it, and the pressure of all five fingertips equalize against his leg, but Tony didn't protest or try to pull away. Slowly, Steve spread out his hand, his thumb, third, and fourth fingers curling down to close around Tony's wrist, spanning it easily, with his thumb laid across Tony's pulse point.

__

Now he had his submerged, throbbing erection, Tony's sweat-tufted hair and tripping pulse, and the tiny finger motions still playing against his right thigh, all timed against his own heartbeat. An unrealized band around his lungs loosened, and he sank into the cradle of the couch, of Tony's mouth, of the close wet heat blanketing his extremities, of the fluttering, staggered rhythms drawing diagrams in the blankness of his mind. They were ciphers he could nearly decode, patterns and cycles he could almost predict, but they would never quite repeat, a series of soft resets that held Steve suspended between endless intervals and gentle reminders of elapsing time.

__

Then there was melody, stirring piano and strings. Steve opened his eyes to the roll of end credits. The theme music overtook the subtle percussive beats he'd been lulled by.

__

Oh. He’d missed the reveal. He could find out later. It didn’t seem that important right now.

__

His dick had gone down, some. Still half-adrift, he didn't move or say anything. Neither did Tony.

__

More advertisements played. More jingles jangled. The next program began.

__

More petty squabbles, more grandiose schemes.

__

Usually he'd have shifted positions a couple times by this point in his viewing, crossed and uncrossed his legs, gotten up for a piss or grabbed a snack, and if his dick took an interest in anything, stuck his hand down his pants and rubbed out a rough one to blunt whatever edge had the thunder rolling in his ears.

__

This had been a comfortable interlude, but a long one, and he was starting to feel restless.

__

"Tony, I gotta..." It came out rusty, and he finished the sentence by sucking air through his nose and expelling it in a noisy gust, stopping himself before he messed this up.

__

Tony's grip on Steve's thighs tightened, the tendons on back of his hand cording up under Steve's hold. His other hand slid down to massage short, hard caresses around Steve's kneecap, then further, thumbing circles into the tough meat of his calf muscle. He mouthed once around the thickness of Steve's cock, his lips making a soft smacking sound in the wet.

__

Steve choked off a harsh tone that gritted out from chest-deep. Reflexively, his hands curled, around the knob of Tony's wrist, and cupping the oval of his skull, through hair plastered to his scalp, the layers that wrapped this casing of bone that Tony risked cracking open with every headlong flight into combat.

__

He couldn't stop himself from seeing it -- _Tony's eyes glassing over, his genius leaking out in a thin trickle of grey_ \-- No!

__

He shoved the image down, rubbed his thumb along the shell of Tony's ear, and drank in the sound of his greedy whine.

__

Maybe it was just knowing about that goddamn golf ball in there trying to eat Tony's life away, that made him seem a little more fragile. Or the uncommon sight of Tony's head bowed, the passivity of this whole thing.

__

Didn't matter, Tony would be furious to hear him thinking like this. Get his back up, all deadly cold-boiled in Steve's face, spitting a lecture about how he didn't need to be _protected_ , he wore two tons of fucking _armor_ a lot harder than Steve's cowl, or his goddamn thick skull.

__

He'd hurtle into the sky to do his part in saving the world or the city or someone's kitten and then crawl off to his lone wolf's den to lick his wounds and vomit up his guts and...

__

God _dammit_ , Tony was so strong, unflagging and flawed and formidable and sloppily human, unstintingly a hero, and Steve _knew_ he didn't need to be shielded, but anything coming at him, Steve still wanted to hit it first, hit it harder, hit it again, till it never got back up.

__

_(They'd fought about it, Christ, how they fought and probably always would, like a pair of savage dogs, cunning enough to mark out the weaknesses and strike, digging into every painful faultline of their matching martyr complexes.)_

__

Thumb like a wiper blade, he brushed back and forth, back and forth, across the beating pulse in Tony's wrist.

__

Safe, they were here, together, unbroken, _damn you, Rogers, relax!_ He was rattled and riled, biting down on his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, his eyes squeezed shut with pools of crimson splattering the backs of his lids.

__

Full and throbbing again, Steve's cock, shaft to head to dripping slit, was stretched out on the slab of Tony's tongue, but still ignored beyond incidental bumps of his palate and throat. He ran his hand down the back of Tony's neck and up again, roughing his hair the wrong way to get a taste of any friction at all, struggling to master himself.

__

It was too much, too much flashing by in his head--

__

_(...just one of many near misses, Tony flying things a little too close and ending up in the clutches of a gigantic mechanoid, and Steve, screaming out his soul-chilling, desperate denial so hard he could feel his voice breaking and his throat going raw from the force, pulling a death-defying maneuver up three stories and across ten feet of open air to leap onto the thing and hack its appendages to disuse before it could crush Tony like a gore-streaked soda can._

__

_And then, once Steve had seen Tony wrench free, he'd jumped and flipped through flailing, snapping cables up to the shoulders, clinging with his thighs while he decapitated the giant robot with vicious, overhand slices of his shield. Immersed in the battle clangor, he'd never known -- till he was snatched from the air as the thing toppled, and on crippled thrusters, half-flown, half-free-fallen to a crash landing -- that Tony had hovered there in his mangled armor the whole time instead of jetting to safety, like...)_

__

\--violence and gentleness and arousal too long deferred, sex and death rolling over and over each other, grappling for position in an oil and water clinch.

__

His eyes burned and his balls ached and all this immobility ran counter to his every instinct, but Tony hadn't said he could move, and he wanted to crawl out of his skin, and he was spoiling for a--

__

_(Fight or fuck, he hadn’t cared which he got first. Charred and cut up and incandescent with rage, Steve had dogged Tony all the way back to Iron Man's flight center. He'd put the authority of Captain America into his clipped-out order for the crew to vacate the room, and then torn the trashed armor, plate by plate, by hand, from Tony's bruised body, cursing a nonstop string that'd started low and gotten louder till it resolved into a hoarsely snarled crescendo._

__

_"...like anyone with_ half a lick _of self-preservation, what the_ fuck _were you thinking, Tony, you were supposed to get yourself_ safe _!_

__

_"_ Me _be safe? What was that bullshit stunt_ you _pulled out there,_ Captain _?"_

__

_"One that saved your ass from being crushed like a scrapyard rustbucket!"_

__

_"The hell with_ me _, you shouldn't have fucking risked yourself!"_

__

_"Goddamn you, Tony, that is never an acceptable answer!"_

__

_"It's_ my _answer. Don't you get it, Steve, I'll_ always _choose you!"_

__

_"No,_ you _don't get it, Tony, that's always the_ wrong _choice!"_

__

_Their toe-to-toe shout-off had become blistering words hissed into each other's mouths, then biting kisses, and adrenaline-fueled, animalistic, tooth-and claw sex right there on the launch pad, with Tony's green impact gel smearing all over both of them, slippery as all hell inside and out. The goo had tasted foul, but turned out to make_ spectacularly _effective slick, and the whole thing had been mind blowing, searing hot, branded into Steve's memory.)_

__

Overheated, hyperventilating, Steve realized that the growling he heard in his ears was his own. Tony's breath had turned noisy, too, sounding thick and wet, and he was kneading harder at Steve's calf, squeezing and rubbing the muscle in erratic patterns Steve was primed to have happening between his legs, not down along one of them. The weird offset of sensation added another layer of urgency to the atmosphere, already heavy with charge, awaiting some unknown pressure change to trigger a cloudburst.

__

Steve shuddered, a heavy groan pouring out of him, and his cock jumped. Tony echoed him at a higher pitch, pressed forward and swallowed Steve deep, lips clamped as tight as any cock-ring around his base, and looked up for the first time in... three quarters of an hour?

__

God, the sight of him, wrecked like a wild man with matted hair and swollen lips, his face soaked and his naked torso gleaming with sweat, arresting Steve's eyes with his dark-dilated gaze, and _not breathing_ while he hugged Steve's cock down his throat...

__

The storm broke.

__

Steve sobbed. "Oh, God, oh, fuck, Tony, _ohhhhhhhhh_..."

__

Hot and cold rushes darted feverishly up and down his frame, sensitizing random points, and drawing his nipples to hard peaks. A tremor wracked through him, ass and abs and shoulders, and he jerked his hands away from Tony to claw down into the arm and cushions of the couch, tossing his head back, teeth bared and heart pounding madly in his temples.

__

He wasn't breathing, either.

__

Not till he felt Tony pull back enough to reopen his airway, his lips going slack while he heaved in a sucking breath.

__

Then he slid Steve's dick from his mouth entirely.

__

Steve's head snapped up and he dragged in his own air as Tony replaced his mouth with a loose, one-handed hold, stroking Steve's red, straining length slow and light, like he knew it might just kill Steve right now to cut the stimulation completely.

__

It might anyway. But Steve -- hadn't broken, hadn't moved anything but his head and hands, hadn't thrust, hadn't _come_ , though his arousal was a roaring beast caged inside his skin, and he felt drawn scar-tissue tight, and his cock was white-hot from Tony's firepit of a mouth, blazing and burning for release.

__

"Steve. Sweetheart. You've been so gooood," Tony crooned, his voice sultry with crushed-gemstone gravel.

__

Steve gulped, shaking, his body in shock with the sudden change of pace, and the praise.

__

"Now let go, darling, and let me take you for a ride. Actually, I take that back. You should absolutely hold on." Ruddy-cheeked, flushed and luminous, Tony smiled, gesturing toward one of Steve's hands with a lift of his chin."To me, that is. You know how much I like it when you’ve got me in those big hands of yours."

__

He ducked back to Steve's dick without further ado, replacing hand with mouth once more, crawling his fingers up Steve's thighs to sit in the creases of his hips, and starting up a sensual massage with the flat of his tongue.

__

Steve shot forward, pushing himself away from the couch back so he was sitting up and leaning into it, his torso curled over Tony's.

__

Oversensitized as he was, Tony's tongue felt like wet velvet sandpaper rasping over his engorged shaft, catching every vein and ridge, just shy of starting to abrade. His body prickled all over and his addled brain belatedly caught up to Tony's request for handling. He took Tony's head between his palms, thumbs at his temples, feeling every working of his jaw as Tony set upon him in earnest, bobbing his head up and down on Steve's length, starting shallow, and going a little further every time. Steve took it as encouragement to meet his rhythm, kicking his hips for every increment Tony took him in.

__

It didn't take long till they were meeting halfway, their combined movement sliding Steve's dick all the way home to the back of Tony's mouth at every stroke. Their entire motion slowed as it lengthened, becoming a deep, heavy fuck. Tony's lips stayed sealed in a tight ring along Steve's shaft, making the most of every inch, and humming out his urgings in a constant stream of rising inflections.

__

So good, Tony was _so good_ at this, gorgeously concentrated in his efforts, his carved-out cheekbones hollowed to create the perfect, filthy-slick suction and slide, keeping Steve wet and messy and zinging with random-fire spark points.

__

Steve found himself pushing for more, faster. Planting his feet in the thick carpet, he let his flexing thighs propel the thrust of his hips, making his body a pistoning machine. He cradled Tony's face, pulling him down and burying Tony's nose and forehead into the furrows of his stomach every time Steve's cock buried itself in the steamy pocket of Tony's throat. Every time Steve let off, Tony grabbed for air in dirty gasps, his clumped lashes springing open, and his eyes wide and hungry.

__

The world narrowed. Steve was a tangle of inflamed, lit-up nerves, his senses overpowered with hot salt and sex. He could smell and taste it, lick it off his drying lips when he swirled his tongue around to re-wet them, breathing open-mouthed and loud.

__

Tony pulled against his hold enough for Steve to let him go. He traded his grip for a two-handed clutch into his own hair, instead, as Tony dragged his reddened mouth up Steve's dick and took up the weight of the shaft in his fist, pumping him just this side of too tight. The friction sizzled along his spine and into his stomach.

__

Even that was eclipsed when Tony rolled Steve's exposed cockhead against the roof of his mouth, and flayed him with his tongue. He wielded it like a torturer's scalpel, licking razor-sharp lines around the ring of his foreskin and up the clefted underside, and honed it to a point, twisting at the raw opening of Steve's slit like he could screw it in down to the root and core the come straight out of Steve's balls.

__

Half out of his mind, arching against the back of the couch with his chest thrown forward, Steve writhed under the lash. 

__

He cried out, panting. "... _nnngh_ , God, gotta, gotta come, fuck, Tony, _please_!" Heat and lightning were crashing through his veins, driving him up toward a towering height. His dick throbbed and his whole body stretched and strained, and he was dangling over an abyss, held back by a thread he was so, so desperate to break.

__

Tony kept on jerking him and sucking in quick, hard pulses, alternating his tongue between underside and crown, rubbing with the flat of it and darting with the tip, lapping up the welling precome. Steve's balls were so full that the touch became a whole new torment when Tony took and rolled them in his other hand, then reached back to press a hard rub behind them. Like a flanking maneuver, it was stars and sparks jolting him from yet another angle, deep within.

__

Tony bore down on his cockhead with one more long, relentless suck, and with so many hypersensitized spots taking the hit at once, Steve was gone, riding an electrified rail that blinded him with arcs of obliviating current, ramping up and up into overload. His body seized, and he burst wide open with a howl, shooting off in pulsing streams, his ears crackling with white noise and Tony's labored, wordless exhortations, rocking frantically into Tony's hands and mouth and petting haphazardly at his head and shoulders as his muscles unlocked.

__

Mercilessly, Tony sucked and swallowed him through his orgasm till his throes subsided, avidly licking him shiny and clean of come. Finally, Steve hit a threshold and it was too much, falling back into the couch with a muttered, "... _hnnn_ , no more," and reaching down to cover his spent, softening flesh.

__

Tony let him slip free of his mouth, rose to his knees with a moan, and shoved a hand down to the tented-out crotch of his pants, digging in with the heel, and palming himself roughly.

__

Still spinning high, jangling and fizzing with aftershocks, Steve slumped amidst the cushions and took in the compelling scene. Tony was braced on spread knees, wearing a pleasure-pained grimace. Nostrils flaring, and gusting out a symphony of needy, wanting noises, he stroked down his chest and flanks, breaking off to tweak and tug and circle back and forth between one nipple and the other, as he rubbed himself off. Oh, he was a sight, pent up and frenetic, working himself quickly from the get-go and only getting faster from there, only now abandoning his restraint after not touching himself this entire time he'd been taking care of Steve.

__

Steve could never tire of watching him like this, wanton and shamelessly debauched. He'd drink it in for every second he could indulge, but it was no surprise that Tony was past the point of prolonging this. It wasn't more than a minute or two before he convulsed and and came with a keening cry and a spreading stain that darkened the satin of his pants.

__

Tony's hands stilled. His head dropped and his shoulders drooped. He looked as poured out from under his skin as Steve felt. Listing heavily to the side and letting his weight fall onto one hand, he ended up half-reclining as he lowered his backside to the floor. Oddly, he proceeded to use his other hand to help pull his legs the rest of the way around in front of him, before flopping to his back on the carpet with a pained groan, and contorting his face through a strange series of expressions.

__

Steve leaned out of the couch, setting elbows to knees, ready to stand. "Tony?" he questioned, moderately concerned.

__

Tony held up a pre-emptive hand. " _Rrrghh_ , pins and needles, just need a minute, babe." He sounded like he'd swallowed them.

__

Oh, fuck. He'd been sitting on his feet all that time. too. No wonder. God, the two of them, neither ever meeting a limitation they wouldn't push. At least this would pass on its own, even if Tony was having an unpleasant few moments. Steve would find a way to make it up to him, and pleasing Tony was never a hardship.

__

After a while, Tony let out a long sigh, his features relaxing and smoothing out. He lifted his hips to shove his soiled pants down, rolling his torso up with an appealing flex of his abs to push them off his legs. Flopping back down again, he balled up the pants and used them to give his crotch a wipedown before tossing them away. Only then did he turn his eyes to Steve, color high in his cheeks, beckoning with a loose wrist before he let the hand clap onto his chest, theatrical as always.

__

"C'mere, hot stuff, I believe I've earned the right to post-coital full-body contact."

__

He had, not that any earning was actually required. They were both inveterate cuddlers -- it was the most closely held part of their relationship. Between Tony's exhibitionist streak, his own die-hard competitive nature, and the pair of them being raging adrenaline junkies, their friends and teammates had gotten more than one eyeful of sexual escapade.

__

But shared in private were the embraces, the heavy, lazy tangles, the renewal and relief and shoring up against inimical weariness, that only body warmth inhabited by a best-beloved one could grant. _Sweet Jesus, he was a damned sentimental fool._

__

Steve spun sideways and swung his legs up, making like to lay himself out full length along the seat cushions. "Why don't you come on up here? Perfectly nice couch to cuddle on," he groused. He made a point of sniping and arguing about all possible matters of inconsequence.

__

"Oh, don't be stuffy, Steve, come roll around with me on the floor," Tony carped, wrinkling his nose.

__

His man was such a fainting maiden. Steve heaved out an affronted sigh and rolled off the couch and onto the carpet, which was springy and soft, like a bunch of little brushing fingers. He gathered Tony up and pulled him into an unresisting sprawl half across his chest and tucked under his arm, limbs shifting and slotting into their well-rehearsed grooves.

__

As they settled, Steve followed a stray thought, flinging an arm back toward the couch, fumbling for the remote control he'd left behind, and thumbing off the power button by feel. The drone of the ongoing drama playing in the background fell to silence, and he returned his arm to wrap around Tony.

__

Tony nosed into his collarbone and gave it a nip. "You were watching that."

__

Steve scoffed. "You know I wasn't."

__

Tony gave it a beat, and chimed in again. "Maybe I was watching that."

__

"You weren't watching it," Steve said mildly.

__

"Ok, I wasn't," Tony concurred, giving in gracefully.

__

Steve wasn't the only one who liked to kick at molehills and bicker over minutiae. They needed some of those to make up for the mountains.

__

Thank God for no mountains coming down around them today.

__

Just lassitude stealing through him, his earlier anxieties diluted in the wash of orgasm and the comforting heap of Tony's lithe weight. Even the tang of their exertions was grounding, ripe and earthy, giving him roots.

__

Steve ran a hand down Tony's back, rubbing idly at his shoulder blade and the dip of his spine, happy to collect a soft, contented hum. He sank into the idle strokes of Tony's fingers. He watched Tony's head rise and fall on his chest.

__

Then Tony raise his chin and propped it on Steve's chest, blinking up at him. "So who dunnit?"

__

Steve frowned. "Who done what?"

__

Tony gasped loudly, gaping his eyes and mouth a into ridiculous saucer-face. "Oh, my dear, how could you forget? I must know! _Who switched the babies?_ "

__

"Babies," Steve repeated, incredulous. What a wiseguy. "Who gives a rat's ass. I had better things to think about. Like getting my _cock warmed_ by my gorgeous and creative lover. Oh, and also, an amazing blowjob.” It really had been. Life was turbulent and the world was filled with wrongs to be righted, but in this, he was a very, very lucky guy. “Uh, thanks, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't--" 

__

"Oh, no, darling, I did tell you this was for you. And I also more than got mine. I promise, you haven't fallen down on your duties." Tony smirked. "I'm just thankful your priorities are in the right place. I really did think you were too dedicated a viewer to be so easily _distracted_."

__

Steve poked him in the ribs, just for being so full of shit. He loved him for it. "Fuck you, Stark, I know where it's good. And that's what the episode recaps in the TV Guide are for."

__

Tony laughed heartily. "Steve Rogers, I declare, you truly have become a man of our time!"

__

Coming from Tony, that was either the finest compliment or the lowest insult he'd ever been handed. Coming from Tony, Steve figured he'd just take it as both.

__

Long arms were good for something. He reached down and goosed the tight globe of Tony's ass, just because they were naked and it was a tempting, perfect curve, and he was allowed.

__

He got a good little jump and startle out of Tony, and used it to shuffle them around to their sides, Tony wriggling with him. Then Steve leaned in for a kiss, bringing the less-sharp edges of their tongues to meet. It was sensual and undemanding after their earlier conflagration, neither moving to take it past a simmer, but they hadn't hadn't kissed today, and Steve wanted one, and he savored the sweetness.

__

Here, too, they knew how to tilt and glide, mingling their mouths warm and mellow, banked to a gentle glow.

__

When they broke off, Tony left a soft, scratchy nibble at the corner of Steve’s mouth, smiling all the way to his eyes, and then tucking back under Steve's chin like he was planning to stay a while. Steve considered. Temperature wasn’t too hot or cold, he didn't have to piss, and he could get by for a while before his stomach would be shrieking at him to shovel down some calories. Yeah, he could stay right here. Tony would probably doze. Steve probably wouldn't, but it just meant he wouldn't miss anything.

__

He wrapped Tony up tighter and nudged a thigh between his knees, getting in one last tease, low and gruff.

__

"So, how about it, handsome, you wanna join me tomorrow for some more daytime drama?"

__

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the fic title is my play on a soap opera title such as _"The Bold and the Beautiful."_  
>  And my unofficial subtitle for the fic is "A Daytime Drama, or Adventures of the Daytime Drama Queens."
> 
> The fic turned out to be more about soap operas than I expected. Thank you, Ults. :D
> 
> (None of the names, lines of dialogue, or plot points attributed to soap operas within the fic are taken from any specific, actual soap opera. I made them up. That said, soap operas are "trope operas," and I wouldn't be surprised if there are similarities to some actual episode of some actual soap. Any instances of this are unintentional.)


End file.
